


Irresistible

by whiteroses77



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Developing Relationship, Intoxication, M/M, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: When Superman comes to Bruce Wayne’s rescue, certain desires are brought to the fore but will either be able to resist temptation.





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Irresistible 1  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,515  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: When Superman comes to Bruce Wayne’s rescue, certain desires are brought to the fore but will either be able to resist temptation.

~S~

He’d been rescuing avalanche victims in the Alps. All had survived, so it was a job well done. He was just now making the return flight over France, when he heard a scream of distress. He hadn’t planned a worldwide patrol tonight, but he couldn’t ignore a cry for help. He changed course and followed the source of the sound, north to Paris. He hovered over the City of Light and then dovetailed towards the Eiffel Tower.

As he reached the world famous wrought iron landmark, he saw onlookers on the ground flocking to marvel at the spectacle happening above their heads. He homed in on a man dangling over the side of the lattice work. Obviously, he was the source of the scream. He also saw a good Samaritan clinging onto the man’s wrist, trying to save the hapless man.

As he got closer, he heard a woman calling out, “Au revoir Mon Cher.”

Superman saw that the fancily dressed woman was waving at the poor man with a handkerchief like an old 1940’s movie heroine. As Superman closed in, he suddenly recognised the heroic helper. It was the infamous playboy Bruce Wayne. He looked quite dashing wearing a tuxedo. Superman shook his head incredulously at the coincidence and then he reached out, and grasped the hanging man and lifted him to safety. Formally, he said to the playboy, “It’s okay sir, I’ve got him.”

The crowd below cheered.

As he put down the man, the distressed man began pointing at the beautiful woman fearfully, “Her… Caprice…, she tried to kill me.”

Superman looked to the only other witness present, “Is that true Mr Wayne?”

The handsome playboy opened his mouth to speak, but the woman hugged the playboy’s arm, and spoke first in accented English, “No, it is not true. It is not my fault that I have found a better man to replace him. He was so jealous that it makes him throw himself to his death.”

With suspicion, Superman narrowed his eyes. This woman didn’t seem too bothered that her ex-lover was almost killed right in front of her. He remembered her farewell salutations to the man, as Superman had arrived. Again, he turned to Bruce Wayne, “Mr Wayne…?”

He watched as the woman breathed against Bruce’s neck, and he saw the slight wobble as the playboy blinked again and again. Then he shook his head as if to clear it. Then he looked at him as if from a great distance, “Superman…?” he uttered.

The woman’s breath caressed Bruce’s ear again. “Tell him Bruce, I’m not to blame.”

Bruce glanced at her and smiled, “Caprice would never…” he broke off and his gazed returned to him again, “Superman…?” he questioned again.

The woman appeared quietly seething that her date wouldn’t agree with her, and Superman was on his guard. He reached out and he pulled Bruce Wayne away from her and stepped between them. He ordered, “Stay away from him.”

The victim, the woman’s ex-lover explained fearfully, “That’s what she does. She enthrals us and then discards us when someone better comes along.”

Caprice smirked and said, “And who is better than Superman himself.”

She reached out towards him. He tried to back off, but he collided with the playboy that he was protecting. The femme fatale made contact and breathed against Superman’s lips. However, in that moment, he felt Bruce Wayne against his back, Superman’s eyes fluttered closed as the billionaire murmured in his ear, “Fight it Superman. If anyone can fight it, it’s you.” 

He felt woozy and a little intoxicated, and his body reacted to being in the presence of such sultry company. He slowly opened his eyes and gazed at the seductive vixen in front of him. He reached out to her. Caprice smiled smugly at her victory. Then Superman knocked her out with a gentle flick to the head. She crumpled unconscious to the floor in a heap of taffeta and lace.

The two other men gasped with surprise and relief. Bruce uttered, “It didn’t work on you.”

Superman turned around and grinned at the playboy. He shrugged, “I guess she wasn’t my type.”

Bruce Wayne smiled widely and then swayed on his feet, and Superman reached out and steadied him.

~*~

He delivered the victim and the temptress to the police and promised that Mr Wayne would make a statement in the morning when he was feeling better. He also promised to return and give his own statement after he’d taken Mr Wayne to his hotel.

~*~

He flew with the tuxedo clad playboy in his arms over the rooftops of Paris the short distance to the Grand Parisian Hotel where he was staying. During the flight, Mr Wayne was quiet in his arms. He glanced at him and saw he was being thoughtfully observed.

“What…?” Superman asked gently.

The playboy grinned, and asked, “Do all Americans’ get this door to door service, or am I special?”

He snorted softly, “I think that you’re very special, Mr Wayne.”

He was caught off-guard when his companion caressed his jaw. He had to fight to stop himself from blushing. “Don’t.” he mumbled.

Bruce smiled easily at him and teased, “Don’t… what?”

He landed on the penthouse terrace. He made sure the billionaire was steady on his feet. Bruce went to the French windows, opened them wide, and then entered the luxury suite.

Knowing that he was safe inside, he was just about to take off again, when Bruce called, “Do you want to stay for a nightcap?”

Superman frowned at the unexpected offer. He said, “No. Um I better go and make that statement to the police. Oh, don’t forget you have to make one too in the morning.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, and wandered over to his mini bar. He said, “All work and no play makes Superman…” He turned around to face him and the playboy’s gaze lingered on him palpably, “…a very sexy boy.”

Superman took a shocked breath and licked his lips nervously. He swallowed hard. He chuckled with discomfort, “I think whatever her power was its still affecting you, Mr Wayne.”

He watched as Bruce got a bottle of Dom Pérignon out the fridge. He came back to the terrace with it and he wiggled it in the air as if it was a bribe. “I can’t tempt you, Superman.”

The champagne was definitely not the temptation here. But the man – the gorgeous sexy man was intoxicated or something, he wasn’t in his right mind. He knew because… “Don’t forget, I know who you are Bruce.”

Leeringly, Bruce Wayne smiled at him, “I know who you are too.”

He reflexively smiled back at this relaxed version of his teammate. Superman shook his head, “This has been an absurd night.”

The playboy set down the bottle of champagne on a patio table and then stepped in closer. He murmured seductively, “It could be absurdly good between us.”

He gazed at him. He breathed through his nose. He was so sexy in his tuxedo, his dark hair windswept from his escapade on the Eiffel tower, and the flight here, and more importantly, the relaxed seduction he was attempting. Bruce moved in even closer. He felt his breath on his cheek. He smelled his cologne. He wanted to let this happen but he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. In his right mind, he knew Bruce wouldn’t be happy either.

He was so close that Superman groaned huskily in his ear, “Batman.”

Bruce’s mouth moved closer to his ear, “Shh!”

Something about Batman shushing him made Clark chuckle. Then Bruce pulled away so they were face to face. Bruce smiled dizzily at him before he took Superman’s mouth with his.

He groaned as his lips met his, and his hands gently grasped Bruce’s head, he meant to guide him away but he couldn’t help himself, he kissed him back hungrily for a few delicious moments. When he broke the kiss, they were both panting. His teammate told him seductively, “There’s a big comfy bed in there.”

Superman’s senses made an attempt to return and he caressed Bruce’s face with both thumbs. He cringed, “Bruce… Batman…”

Bruce shook his head and lightly scolded, “I said, don’t.”

He started to feel worried, Superman’s brow creased, “You do know who I am?”

The playboy nodded and then he leaned in and kissed him again. It was wrong but he returned the kiss. Bruce looped his arms around Superman's neck and his fingers of one hand twisted into the hair at Superman’s nape. Their bodies ended up pressed together, and he could feel the billionaire’s erection. The kiss ended with them breathing heavily against each other’s lips. Bruce smiled, “Come to bed with me, Superman.”

At the use of his codename, he wondered, “You want to pretend that…”

“Not pretend, just forget until the morning.” He whispered secretively.

He was so tempted, ever since they began working together Clark had been keenly aware of his teammate’s desirability but he’d never noticed any overt attraction on Batman’s part, although they get along together very well. Superman leaned in and kissed him again. “I can’t, the person we’re supposed to forget would kick my ass in the morning.”

Bruce’s intoxicated eyes gazed into his and he whispered, “I promise my ass is worth it.”

He took a shocked breath at the explicit enticement. His teammate’s words finally shaking his senses back into place. With torment, he whispered, “I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

There was surprise at his refusal in his eyes and then Bruce’s jaw set with annoyance. To offset his teammate’s anger, his fingers threaded through Bruce’s hair, and as he held him there, Superman took his mouth heatedly and Bruce returned it passionately. 

He murmured his confession, “I want to so damn much but I can’t tonight, you’ve been compromised. But Bruce… if you want me tomorrow or any other day, I won’t say no.” he kissed him again. He sighed against his lips, “Please come to me.”

Bruce gazed at him intensely. 

He understood, because of Caprice’s powers there was a myriad of emotions and desires running around his teammate’s body. To keep him safe, and out of trouble, Superman gently knocked him out, and caught him in his arms. He carried him to bed, and laid him down. He couldn’t help noticing the luxuriousness of that bed that he’d been invited into.

With regret, he kissed his cheek and then he left the penthouse. All the while, hating himself for being such a decent guy.

~B~ 

Bruce Wayne awoke the next morning, he opened his eyes, and he cringed against the morning light and shut them again. His head throbbed as if he had a hangover. But that was impossible; he’d only had one glass of champagne last night for appearances sake.

As his thoughts turned to last night, snatches of memory returned to him. He remembered being at the opera with his date, he had met the good looking lady at the airport as he’d arrived for a business meet-and-greet in Paris. He hadn’t any plans to hook up with anyone during his business trip, he’d just wanted to get things over with and get back to Gotham; however, he’d been overcome with longing to spend time with the woman. 

He grimaced as the reason for his sudden overwhelming desire returned to him. He remembered being at the top of the Eiffel Tower, when a distraught man had approached them. The guy had been angry, demanding to know how Caprice could love him just yesterday and then toss him aside.

He remembered, the lady trying to calm the man, the femme fatale had breathed against his lips and then ordered him to prove his love for her by dying for her. The guy had mindlessly gone to the edge and let himself fall. Except, some survival instinct had made him reach out and grab hold of the ledge just in time. While Caprice was eager to see him fall, Bruce’s own basic instinct had made him try to help the man up. 

It was something that the police needed to know. He groaned as he remembered being told to give a statement to the police today.

He remembered Superman’s arrival. He remembered Caprice trying to get him to confirm her version of events. And how somehow Superman’s presence had retarded her power over him. He also remembered Superman protecting him, and then the woman trying to use her powers on Superman himself. He remembered how she had failed. With hindsight, it was strange that her rejection of him didn’t cause the same desperation to know why as the victim had felt.

Still wearing the tuxedo from last night, Bruce got off the bed, headed for the bathroom, and took a leak.

He remembered whispering the name of his hotel in the Kryptonian hero’s ear. His body remembered being held in Superman’s so strong but careful arms as they flew to the hotel.

Like a goddamned damsel.

He cringed at the memory. Then he began to undress.

His eyes widened in alarm as he remembered what had happened next. The way he’d tried to seduce Superman. Inviting him in, offering champagne. He remembered Superman’s initial unease.

He got in the shower, and let the spray revive him.

Bruce licked his lips, remembering Superman returning his kisses tentatively at first and then passionately.

He shampooed, and conditioned his hair.

It surprised him that Superman – the immaculate hero had succumbed to his mouth at all. It also surprised him how good he’d tasted and how his kisses had stirred his arousal. He remembered the hero trying to remind him who they were. How he’d tempted his teammate with his body, and offered something he never offered to anyone.

He soaped himself up.

He shook his head at himself. Superman had refused. Good, pure, Superman had refused the sins of the flesh. There was a slither of pique at that, but it was totally overcome by the relief that he felt. It would’ve been embarrassing if he’d woken up with his teammate lying next to him. Having to deal with a morning after speech wasn’t his style. That was a big plus of having his reputation.

His hands ran over his wet body.

His memory flashed to those last few moments last night, he remembered Superman telling him that if he still wanted him with a clear mind that he’d be open to it.

Yeah right, like that was ever going to happen.

His soapy hands caressed his semi erect cock, and it began to fill.

He just hoped that the artless hero had enough discretion and self-respect not to bring up the subject the next time they met.

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Irresistible 2  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,623  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce have a confrontation after the events in Paris. 

~B~

He spent the morning giving a statement to the French Police, telling them what he knew. While he was there, he found out that Superman had given a statement as promised. Of course, he had. The detective he spoke to revealed that the femme fatale was suspected in a string of crimes that followed her, money scams, violence, and suicides. All of course brought about by her metahuman power of pheromone induced persuasion. Knowing that he could help in getting her locked up, lessened the shame of being one of her victims.

Then he’d headed over to the Wayne Enterprises business meeting, his real reason for being here. He’d met the associates, and been met by strangely sympathetic and careful greetings. 

It wasn’t until later that day at his hotel that he received a phone call from a worried Alfred. 

“Are you all right, Master Bruce?”

Bruce’s response had been confusion, as he asked, “How can you possibly know about what happened last night?”

“Well it wasn’t from your lips, young man.” His guardian half-heartedly scolded.

“Alfred.” he muttered into the phone.

“The morning newspaper has just arrived at the Manor, sir.”

He had a sinking feeling, “The time difference between Europe and the US means… shit.”

He heard Alfred tut-tut at his language.

He sighed, “I’m fine. I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

“Very well, sir.”

With chagrin, he went down to the lobby, that’s when he caught sight of today’s edition of the Daily Planet. The headline read, ‘La Fatale Intrigue’ by Clark Kent.

He scanned the article. It was an outline of the events of last night, including socialite Bruce Wayne’s involvement. He now understood his business associate’s manners towards him, they’d read today’s newspapers. Bruce grinded his teeth, “Talk about journalistic integrity.”

~*~

He didn’t get back to the US until the following day, but he was still prickled by annoyance. His flight landed at Metropolis Airport, and he took a taxi to the Daily Planet building. 

He didn’t know why the story bugged him so much, but it did. He rode the elevator up to the right floor. Though he’d never been here, he didn’t need to ask for directions. Just to have possession of the knowledge, he’d gained the facts of his teammate’s private life when they first met. He arrived at the office that had Lois Lane and Clark Kent stencilled on the door pane. He knocked once and then entered.

Fortunately, there was only one occupant of the office present. The bespectacled reporter glanced up from his computer screen, his eyes widened slightly behind his lenses. Clark Kent adjusted his glasses and uttered, “Bruce … I mean Mr Wayne, what’re you doing here?”

Bruce found himself smirking at the mild mannered façade. He walked further into the office, closing the door behind him. He felt Mr Kent’s eyes follow his progress. He turned and met his gaze again. “I saw your article the other day. It was hard to miss.”

Clark smiled shyly, and smoothed his palm over his tie, “Is that the reason you’ve come here?”

In response to the hopeful curiosity so blatant in his countenance, Bruce half sneered, “Don’t you have any integrity, using your own rescues as stories?”

Clark stared at him mutely, and then his eyes narrowed slightly behind his lenses, he shrugged, “Usually, I don’t write about myself, but I was the only journalist on the scene.”

“So a story is more important than loyalty?” he snapped.

Clark Kent stood up, and he straightened his shoulders and met his gaze dead on, “Wait a minute, I wrote an article about a crime, the fact that you happened to be one of the victims doesn’t change the facts.”

He knew what he was saying was true but… “You could’ve kept my name out of it.” he huffed.

The reporter walked around his desk and approached him, and said seriously, “I’d have thought you’d value the attention, it adds to your lady’s man image.”

“Falling foul of a woman like that…” he winced.

Clark began nodding, “I understand it could be embarrassing ending up in a situation with a person you didn’t choose… I've had experience dealing with someone with a similar power before. Luckily, the affects wear off without frequent exposure.”

Bruce grimaced at his consoling manner, and turned and looked out the window, at the bustling street below.

Clark uttered wistfully, “You must’ve been really upset to come all the way here to shout at me, or maybe you came for another reason…?”

He could hear the hopefulness in his tone. He said over his shoulder, “I guess I should be grateful that you didn’t write the full story.”

“I’d never reveal something so private, Bruce, especially about a friend.” he reassured him.

“Friend.” he uttered under his breath.

He felt Clark reach out and touch his shoulder. At his touch, Bruce flinched away, “Don’t!”

He sensed the shadow of him back away, and then he heard a humourless chuckle, “Well I guess you didn’t come here for me.”

Indignantly, Bruce turned and sneered at him, “You really thought I couldn’t stay away from you. I might as well have been drugged that night.”

Clark’s jaw tensed, and he stood tall and any sign of the timid reporter was gone. He muttered, “She was the one that drugged you, not me. You came onto me.”

His demeanour, his anger, and his confidence touched something inside Bruce and he felt his body stir with arousal. Reflexively, and defensively, he goaded, “Aren’t I lucky that it was the saintly Superman there, so my honour stayed intact?”

Clark’s nostrils flared with annoyance, and he leaned in further, “Yeah you are, because…” he stopped mid-sentence. 

Bruce squinted at him, and stepped in closer, toe to toe, “Because…?”

Not put off by his proximity, Clark muttered, “She dosed me too.”

Incredulously, he chuckled, “You’re telling me, it was a delayed reaction, and that’s why you had your tongue in my mouth?”

Clark licked his lips and denied softly, “No.” 

He shook his head, and said spitefully, “But the man of stainless steel didn’t want to get tarnished?”

Clark’s broad chest heaved. Bruce saw his eyes flare amber, as he uttered, “You’re angry at me because I didn’t do it, aren’t you?”

Despite the curl of arousal in his belly, or because of it, he snorted, “Yeah right.”

Clark asked huskily, “Don’t you remember what I told you before I left you that night?”

He swallowed hard at his tone, and reflected the question with a jibe, “You were tempted, weren’t you?”

He leaned in closer and Bruce could smell his intoxicating scent, Clark uttered, “I want to know that if someone says they want me… wants to go to bed with me, that they’ll have no regrets afterwards. I didn’t want you to regret it, Bruce.”

“And you think I really wanted you in my bed…?” he scorned.

Clark smiled smugly, “Oh I think you did. I don’t think you offer your ass to just anyone, Mr Wayne.”

There was a feminine laugh, and then “Well damn.”

Bruce grimaced, he saw Clark’s smile fade, and then they both turned and saw Lois Lane standing in the now open doorway. He couldn’t even be angry at the disruption seeing as though the woman had the right to enter her own office. The pretty brunette eyed them both, and said with a Cheshire cat grin, “Who knew?”

Without showing his embarrassment of her hearing something so private, stoically Bruce turned to Clark and uttered, “I better be going.”

He headed to the door, skirting around Ms Lane, who was still grinning from ear to ear. At the door, he realised Clark had followed him, he turned and met his gaze, and Clark said quietly and contritely, “I’m sorry about…”

He said sternly, “Forget it. Forget all of it.”

As he turned away, he heard Lois say to Clark, “You’ve been holding out on me Smallville?”

Bruce grimaced and walked away. He really did intend to forget it.

~*~

They didn’t meet again until there was a crisis that needed the Justice League’s attention. There wasn’t any chance to talk, the danger was imminent. While Wonder Woman went toe to toe with her nemesis Hades, the other members of the League were fighting his minions. All except Superman, the ancient god had unleashed the fires of Tartarus, and Superman was literally playing fireman, protecting the citizens of Boston, putting out fires and ferrying victims to hospital. 

As the battle came to a close and Hades was returned to the Underworld, the members of the Justice League were in high spirits, relief and pride pervaded the air. It wasn’t Batman’s style to celebrate and back slap, though he felt the same relief. After a few moments, he realised that Superman wasn’t gathered with them. 

He glanced around the area. In the distance, he heard sirens, and he saw the flames of a fire still burning, and then a stream of black smoke rose into the sky as the flames were quenched. Batman took a steady breath, noting with admiration that his teammate was still at work. Fighting the bad guy wasn’t the big deal to a man like Superman, helping people was. He tapped his comm-link, “Batman to Superman, do you need any assistance?”

There was a moment of silence over the air, and then Superman replied, his voice rough sounding, “It’s okay, it’s over. I’ll be there in a minute, Batman.”

Anyone else, he might’ve thought the coarseness of his voice was from smoke inhalation. Batman returned to the Batwing preparing to get out of there, he knew there would be a debriefing at the Watchtower in the next day or so. Just before he got in, Superman landed a few feet away. The other members went over and greeted him with tales of triumph.

Superman was subdued, his face was soot stained, and his whole body language was muted turmoil, but the others didn’t seem to notice. Then Superman looked over at Batman, and red ringed eyes met his and Batman saw the sorrow and defeat in them. Just from the look in Superman’s eyes, Batman understood that today hadn’t been without some tragedies. Then Superman turned back to their teammates and smiled a fragile but fake smile. A smile to reassure, and to carry the burden alone.

Batman swallowed down the lump in his throat. He wished he could go over there and lead the other hero away from the inane chatter, and give him some solace. He clenched his jaw against the emotion, then got in his plane, and headed home to Gotham. 

~S~

Clark stared at his blank computer screen, he felt sick. It wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been able to save people, but it never got any easier. He’d heard that people working in the caring professions and emergency services got battle hardened over time. He didn’t know if that was true, maybe they didn’t care that much in the first place, or maybe they gained a hardened shell, put on emotional armour, or something. 

Most people probably thought Batman was that way, but earlier he had seen something in his teammate’s eyes. He’d seen compassion, and Clark had felt a connection with him for a moment. 

His gaze refocused on the blinking cursor on his screen.

He heard the chair opposite him squeak, and then his desk mate inquired, “Are you okay, Smallville?”

Clark looked away from his screen and met hazel eyes softened by worry. He tried to smile, but he just swallowed hard instead. “I don’t think I can write this story.”

Lois’s eyes narrowed, and with pique she said, “This isn’t because of what ‘Mr Wayne’ said about you writing about your own rescues is it?”

He winced and shook his head, “No.” he sighed, “Anyway I can handle Bruce Wayne.”

His friend raised a teasing eyebrow, “Can you now?”

He smiled weakly, knowing she was just trying to bring him out of his depression. “Except, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me to handle him.”

Lois smirked, “That day I walked in on you two, it sounded like Mr Tightly Wound was trying to rile you into handling him.”

Clark shook his head, and revealed, “We’ve been kind of staying out of each other’s way since then, besides after today I…”

She urged with a leer, “Sounds like the both of you need a long hard…” 

His eyes widened, “Lois!”

She grinned, “Just saying.”

~*~

Earlier, he’d gone to Wayne Manor just to talk; well that’s what he’d told himself. Alfred commented on not having seen him for a while, and then had informed him that ‘Master Bruce’ was out for the evening. Then Alfred had asked about his well-being after today’s events. It told Clark that Bruce had at least mentioned some concern about him to his guardian. It was nice to know Alfred cared, but Lois was right, he needed more than a cup of tea and a chat with the older gentleman. He’d returned home, and dug into the back of his closet.

What he was doing was wrong, Clark entered the Gotham club, he wore his black framed glasses, but he also wore tight black jeans and a black shirt that showed off his biceps. He wanted to look his best. The music was pulsating and rhythmic. He moved through the crowd easily, he felt the other clubbers take notice as he passed them by. Any other time, he’d be shyly gratified but tonight, he didn’t notice them; he had only one focus. 

His hearing homing in on his voice, his eyes scanning the crowd, his nose leading him to the intoxicating familiar scent of his sweat and his cologne combined. 

He found him in a crowded private area. The pleasure seeking playboy was sitting on a leather couch with a leggy bimbo on either side of him. He was wearing very dark blue jeans and a body hugging equally dark blue t-shirt. More casual than Bruce Wayne’s usual attire but then again Clark wasn’t used to seeing him at nightclubs. The bimbos were touching and caressing what didn’t belong to them, something that didn’t belong to anyone, but what had been offered to him one night in Paris. Bruce smiled smugly at the women and enjoyed their caresses.

Clark leaned back against the balcony rail and watched intently. He almost recognised that smug smile, yet he’d seen it with more pleasure and more fire behind it. His stomach lurched as the memories of fire flashed in his mind. He cleared his mind and returned his focus to the man he’d come here for.

He watched as one of the women kissed Bruce’s ear, stuck her tongue slowly inside. A bored Bruce Wayne tilted his head and his eyes glanced around the club. Their eyes met through the crowd. There was a long moment when Bruce checked out Clark’s black clothed body palpably. As his eyes found Clark’s again, he saw shocked recognition in Bruce’s eyes, his mouth opened and he mouthed, “Superman…?”

Clark held his gaze heatedly and smiled slowly.

The playboy’s eyes narrowed and Clark purposefully let his eyes linger on Bruce’s body. A clubber sauntered past Clark, and ran an appreciative hand over Clark’s broad chest. He let it happen, but he didn’t turn away from his target. The unacknowledged person disappeared into the crowd again. 

He saw Bruce’s eyes widen in response. 

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Irresistible 3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,665  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce continue their encounter.

~S~

Bruce’s brow creased with confusion. Then he was distracted as his female companions tried to gain his attention by kissing him. Clark’s nostrils flared as he watched. He watched as Bruce ended the kiss quickly and then his eyes returned to Clark standing there observing.

Shamelessly, he let his gaze linger on the playboy’s crotch and moments later, Bruce squirmed slightly in his seat. His crotch bulged and one of his women noticed and reached for it through the denim. Then she leaned in and asked something in Bruce’s ear. Clark didn’t need super-hearing; he could guess what she had asked. When Bruce’s eyes returned to him, Clark licked his lips slowly, and goadingly.

Bruce’s breath hitched, but he frowned with confusion again. Clark just met his gaze head on and smouldered at him. He saw Bruce’s eyes flare with excitement. Then he loosed himself from the women’s grasp, stood up and then he made his way through the crowd towards him. When he was a foot away, Bruce asked through the music, “What are you doing here?”

Clark leaned in and murmured, “I’m looking for something. I think you might have what I need.”

Bruce’s eyes speared him, and then he took Clark’s hand with a sure grip and he led him down the stairs, through the club, towards the back and then into a deserted corridor.

Halfway down the corridor, they came to a stop, and Bruce turned and met his gaze. “Superman, I don’t know what’s happened. Damn it, you’re not this kind of man.”

He was right; it was only his experience with him that allowed him to be so brazen, and the need to fill his head with something other than horror. So he corralled him in, pressing his hands against the corridor wall and he whispered, “I want to be free for a while. I need it. I just want this.”

He leaned in and he kissed Bruce’s lips. Bruce groaned closed mouthed against his lips and Clark licked against them slowly asking, needing permission. Bruce made an unintelligible noise and then his mouth opened up for him and his fingers threaded through Clark’s hair. Their tongues met and played together, Clark groaned into his mouth in pleasure. He tilted his hips and pressed his crotch against Bruce’s.

Clark cupped his friend’s head and then he tilted Bruce’s head and he kissed his throat.

As he devoured his neck, Bruce cried out, “Oh yes, shit.”

He sucked at a spot that he liked himself, and hoped Bruce would love too. Bruce’s fingers gripped Clark’s hair. “That’s so damn good. How do you do that?”

He licked his salty skin and he mouthed against it, “Better than a tongue in the ear, huh?”

“Fuck, much better.” He panted.

To the accompaniment of soft moans, his hands measured, and groped their way down Bruce’s fit body. His hands finally cupping his denim clad ass. He lifted his head, and faced him and then purposefully pressed his own bulging crotch to Bruce’s. Bruce bucked against him reflexively and Clark used his hold on Bruce’s ass to grind them together. Bruce’s eyes flared with arousal and Clark praised, “You look really good in jeans, baby.”

Bruce licked his lips hungrily and his gaze devoured Clark’s black clad body again, he rumbled, “And you look hot tonight.” he shook his head, “I didn’t know you could.”

“I want what I gave up in Paris.” He told him eagerly.

“I was drugged.” He denied.

With need, he reminded him, “You’re in your right mind tonight.”

“Yes, but… god this is wrong, us being here like this.” He denied again.

Clark’s brow creased and he declared ardently, “I don’t care, Bruce I want this.”

“This…?” Bruce asked.

Clark squeezed the delectable ass in his hands, “This…” and then Clark reached down between them and palmed Bruce’s excited crotch, “…and this.”

His lover arched into his palm and mewed, “I know some bad shit happened today but this is fucking crazy, Superman.”

He chuckled in response, and whispered in his ear, “Clark.” and then he slid down to his knees. 

His actions shook the man behind the Batman. His eyes darted one way down the corridor and then the other. 

Clark pushed up the hem of Bruce’s dark blue t-shirt, and exposed his taut abdomen. He leaned in and licked the trail of sparse hair from his waistband to his belly button. Bruce’s abs flexed in response and Clark smiled and kissed them and then mouthed his oblique. Bruce’s body writhed against the corridor wall, and his denim clad crotch pushed forward.

Bruce began, “Superman…”

Clark met his lustful gaze, and then he reached out and unfastened Bruce’s jeans with determination. He warned him, “You better call me Clark when I’m sucking your cock.”

“Clark, we… shit...”

As he reached in and released his lover’s cock, he muttered flippantly, “Don’t care right now.”

“Clark…”

Suddenly, Bruce tried to push away from the corridor wall but Clark reached up, and planted his hand flat against Bruce’s muscled chest and pinned him to the wall. His lover’s gaze darted down him. His pupils dilated and his chest heaved under Clark’s palm. He began, “Nobody…”

Clark smirked naughtily, “Your cock is beautiful.” Then he leaned in, and breathed against the head of his beautiful hard cock. 

He smiled smugly as it flexed towards him. Then Bruce’s voice dropped down into Batman’s rasp, “Where’ve you been hiding?”

He met his gaze and said with desperate wantonness, “I just need you Bruce; I need you in my mouth.”

Bruce shook his head against the wall behind him. Though Clark was pinning him to the wall by his chest, Bruce’s arms were free and he reached out, ran his fingers through Clark’s dark locks tenderly and then his fingers curled into a fist and he used the grip to guide Clark to the head of his erection. 

Clark didn’t need any assistance but he was gratified by the needful consent.

He took his teammate’s cock between his lips and hummed at the feeling of it heavy in his mouth, filling his mouth. He licked the length and enjoyed the taste of the man he desired. He would’ve loved to take his time, but the precarious situation they were in and their location wouldn’t allow for that, so he began bobbing his head, sucking and devouring Bruce Wayne’s cock with relish.

Bruce sounded hurt as he quietly and desperately cried, “Fuck.” And then his fingers tightened in Clark’s hair, and he began rolling his hips, thrusting his cock into Clark’s mouth with abandon, hard and quick. Clark wanted to lose himself in the mindlessness of it and he relaxed his throat and took it readily. As his cock was swallowed, Bruce growled, “Shit, you… you… bitch.”

In shock, Clark’s eyes darted up and they met his lover’s eyes that sparkled with raw need. They never spoke to each other like that; their relationship was based on teamwork and respect. Though he letting him fuck his mouth, his words disturbed him and riled him. His nostrils flared, and he grasped Bruce’s hips and held him still. He pulled off to the head and he sucked the tip slowly. Bruce breathed heavily as he gazed down at him expectantly. 

Then Clark stood up, and he stepped back. He leaned back against the opposite wall, and met his gaze intensely. 

There was understanding in his eyes as Bruce stared back for a moment. Then with determination, Bruce stepped forward, and his hands ran over Clark’s body, over his black clothed chest, his muscled arms, back to his abdomen and then his hand found Clark’s crotch. Then his mouth took his with hunger. Candidly, Clark whined into his lover’s mouth, “Please, I’m so hard for you.”

Bruce dragged his lips away and he panted against Clark’s moist lips. Bruce grimaced with emotion and desire. “I don’t know what’s happening here. You…” he caressed Clark’s jaw, “…you… you’re showing me a side of you that I’ve never seen before.”

“Do you like it?” he breathed.

His lover groaned, “Yes, but… there might be something wrong with you. After what happened earlier, I don’t know…”

He knew they weren’t going to fall asleep together afterwards and they weren’t going to share quiet words. Bruce was going to go back to the club, back to those women but at least Clark would able to forget for a little while. Forget his sorrow and guilt that with all his powers, he couldn't save everyone. “Trust me, I’m the Clark Kent that you know, I’m in my right mind, I just need to let off some steam.”

“And what about me. I don’t know what I’m doing, I had two women on my arm tonight, but they didn’t excite me…” he swallowed hard, “But you… god you turn me on like I’ve never known…”

Clark leaned back against the wall, and he smiled smugly.

“Don’t do that.” Bruce warned.

He whispered, “I want you, you want me, it’ll be our little secret.”

Flushed with desire, Bruce admitted, “I want to.”

Clark guided him closer and took his mouth slowly and Bruce returned it with slow intense passion. Then Bruce’s deft fingers unbuttoned Clark’s black shirt. He spread the material, and then he caressed his body all over again. Then he did it all again, but this time with his mouth.

He arched needfully towards his tongue and lips, until Bruce’s mouth returned to Clark’s. 

Then blindly Bruce’s hands released Clark’s erection from its denim prison. He took him in hand and jerked Clark’s cock slowly. Then Bruce broke the kiss so he could look at it. He watched his hand pump it, while Clark watched Bruce’s face in return, watching the emotions play over his face.

Keeping his eyes on Clark’s length, Bruce hummed under his breath, and manoeuvred down onto his knees and bowed his head to Clark’s hard cock. His mouth enveloped the head and Clark gasped with pleasurable need. “This is what I needed, baby.” He moaned.

As Bruce sucked the head of his cock, Clark’s head lolled back against the wall. His eyes rolled back as Bruce’s teeth teased the glans. As he pumped the length, Bruce’s lips met his fist again and again. Clark moaned, “Damn, you’re really doing a good job down there.”

After a few minutes, Bruce pulled off, and his panting breath wafted over Clark’s cock head and his hard length flexed towards him. His lover groaned, returned and licked it, sucked the head and then pulled off again. Then Bruce met his gaze and swallowed nervously. Clark didn’t know why someone renowned for his sexiness would be nervous. Clark grabbed Bruce and pulled him up into his embrace, and took his mouth again. Bruce hanged on to him, held onto his neck, and devoured his mouth in return. 

Bruce whined in response, and he pulled back. He was breathing heavily, “God what the hell am I doing, this is stupid.”

Clark smiled wolfishly and then denied, “No, it’s not.” and then spun him around, and spread Bruce against the wall and ground his length against Bruce’s denim covered ass.

Bruce growled softly, “Yes.” He couldn’t hide his excitement. 

Clark’s hands reached around Bruce’s waist and then he dragged the denim over his toned ass. Then Clark ground his hard length against Bruce’s bare ass, into the sweet valley. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bruce lamented against the painted wall.

And even as Clark felt conspicuous pressing Bruce against a corridor wall in the back of a night club, the desire he felt coiled in his belly. It wasn’t the situation he’d have ever chosen but the events recently were allowing him to share something with Bruce that they hadn’t allowed themselves to share before. Clark’s hands cupped and spread Bruce’s ass cheeks, Clark’s cock flexed and he rocked teasingly into that sweet valley. He cooed, “You said… in Paris.”

His lover gasped chokingly. He shook his head, “I can’t let you do that.”

Clark pulled away and said coaxingly, “But you want me to, I know you do.”

Clark let his hands caress along Bruce’s body. He ran his hands up under the fabric of his dark blue t-shirt; feeling the smooth skin patterned with a dip or a welt here or there. 

Bruce’s muscled body arched into his hands, and Clark smiled at his instinctive eagerness, his fingers caressed the bare skin, then followed the line of his spine, and then down into the cleft. 

Bruce’s mouth opened in surprise. His brow creased, he gasped, “I’m a ladies man, I don’t…”

Clark spun him back around to face him. Clark smiled softly, “You don’t let men suck your cock?” 

Self-consciously, Bruce snorted, “No, I …”

He fell to his knees took Bruce’s cock back into his mouth.

“Shit yes.” Bruce cried out.

He let some saliva dribble onto his fingers. Clark continued to play with the sensitive glans with his tongue, as his hand sneaked between Bruce’s legs and then pressed his wet middle finger to the tight whorl of skin and pressed carefully inside.

He pressed his finger inside deeper, and hooked it. Bruce squirmed onto his finger, and his cock flexed in Clark’s mouth. He mewed, “I have a reputation.”

Clark smiled around his lover’s cock and then he pulled off to the tip and murmured, “I know.”

Mesmerised, Clark watched Bruce’s passion wrought face, as he thrust his finger slowly into his tightness. He felt his needy friend bear down on his finger, if not consciously, instinctively needing him inside, “If anyone knew…” Bruce groaned.

Clark smiled lovingly, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.” He growled softly.

“I think you like it.” he teased.

Bruce stared down at him, and bit his lip with nerves and then shook his head, “Please I can’t. I’m not letting you do that.”

Damn. He realised how exceptional that night in Paris had been, that Bruce had been relaxed enough with him to want to let go. He knew his teammate’s resolve, and he admired him for it, but he wasn’t going to let him walk away right now. He slowly removed his finger. He needed to satisfy this connection any way that he could. He needed to forget. He met his gaze heatedly, and coaxed, “I want you in any way I can, Bruce.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bruce asked gravelly.

Clark smiled slowly, and got to his feet. He leaned in and murmured close, “Do you want to fuck Superman?”

Already so turned on, Bruce’s eyes widened at the offer, and then began nodding, “Yes. God yes, come on, but not here.”

“Where?” he asked eagerly, while tucking himself away.

“My car.”

“You drive a Lamborghini, that’s a tight squeeze.” He said as he buttoned up his shirt.

As Bruce managed to tuck himself away, he revealed, “I’m driving the Mercedes tonight; I have to take both my dates home.”

Clark’s jaw tensed for a second, jealousy raised its ugly head. “Of course.”

At that moment, the door down the corridor opened, and Bruce’s two mini-dressed hot dates were standing there. One called, “What are you doing back here, Bruce?”

Though chagrined at the interruption, Clark smirked as he saw Bruce rein in his own disappointment and annoyance, and pull Brucie to the surface. Bruce walked away from him, down the corridor back to his dates, “Nothing, darlings, I’ve just been arranging a little surprise for you both.”

Clark snorted under his breath, ‘A minute earlier, and it would’ve been a surprise.’ 

At the doorway, Bruce turned back, their eyes met and he saw in his eyes regret and longing.

He met that gaze intensely. This wasn’t over.

 

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Irresistible 4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,560  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The night was interrupted but it isn’t over.

~S~

Cloaked in the blackness of the night, he hovered above the rooftops. He watched as Bruce Wayne dropped the second of his dates home. He heard her try to tempt him inside. The stirrings of jealousy floated away as Bruce denied her, and then returned to the Mercedes. 

He followed the car to the quiet leafy treed avenue that led to the main gate of Wayne Manor. He floated down in front of the car before it reached the turning for the gate. After he stopped the car, their eyes met through the windshield. He saw Bruce take a breath, and then reach for the door handle.

~B~

Bruce stepped out. Met his gaze silently for a minute.

Then he checked out his black attire from earlier at the club. “I thought you were careful and only flew in your uniform.”

Clark smiled, “Have you got a thing for the uniform?”

Bruce narrowed his gaze, “No.” he denied.

Clark stalked forward; pulled him into his embrace, “Then shut up.” As he took his mouth, Clark moaned at the feeling.

With his passion still burning for him, Bruce returned the kiss. He muttered into his mouth, “I can’t believe you followed me home.”

Clark walked him backwards until his ass met the car hood, “Not all the way home.”

If it was possible, this right now felt even crazier than their encounter at the nightclub. He grumbled, “You could’ve waited until I got in the gate.”

He stepped into the space between Bruce’s thighs, “I didn’t think you’d want to be seen by Alfred.”

Incredulousness and arousal swept over him, “You think the roadside is better?”

Clark kissed him ardently and pressed their denim clad crotches together and smiled, “Anywhere with you Bruce.”

He wished he had an excuse like the night in Paris, or an attack by Ivy’s sex pollen, or even drink or drugs. But he didn’t have those excuses. Tonight, he didn’t have an excuse for saying yes, and Clark didn’t have an excuse for saying no. All they had was need. He wanted him plain and simple. 

He wanted him. 

Panting, Bruce urged, “Not here, we’re too exposed, get in the car.”

Clark let him up, then Bruce opened the door, and then they both climbed in the back seat of the Mercedes.

Inside the privacy of the car, their eyes met and then they both lunged at the same time, and their mouths and tongues met desperately and eagerly. Then Bruce’s hands were attacking Clark’s shirt buttons, and Clark Kent groaned in response, sat back against the seat, his shirt spread open and let Bruce do whatever he wanted with him. 

And what Bruce Wayne wanted was to suck Clark Kent’s cock again. He went for his zipper. They both moaned echoingly as Bruce’s lips wrapped around Clark’s beautiful hard cock. Clark arched his head back against the seat, and murmured, “You can do this any time you want to, baby.”

Bruce’s response to his encouragement was to take more of his cock.

Clark’s hands returned to Bruce’s body and he felt him caress the swells of his ass cheeks stretching the denim of his jeans.

Then Clark grasped his t-shirt and pulled it up to his neck. Bruce groaned at being disturbed and he pulled off only long enough to get the damned t-shirt off, and then he returned his mouth to Clark’s throbbing length. His hair had been messed up and it fell over his forehead in bangs, and Clark’s fingers threaded through his hair. Bruce whined softly in response.

With the other hand, he traced down Bruce’s spine, into the waist band and into the valley of his ass cheeks. A moment later, it was gone. Clark brought his finger to his mouth, got it wet and then returned it to Bruce’s entrance.

Damn, Clark had accepted his decision earlier when he said he didn’t want to go there, Clark even offered his own ass, but now his fingers were back inside his ass. 

Bruce arched onto his fingers, and mewled around Clark’s cock as Clark pressed his fingers inside the already played with hole. He pressed in and out slowly, working him open, and Bruce hummed around him in response. It was slow languorous pleasure for both of them and Clark moaned in echo.

He would only admit it to himself, but he loved the feeling of Clark Kent’s fingers inside him, stretching him open. His teammate’s cock was throbbing in his mouth, and he imagined the intense stretch if it was his cock in his ass.

He lifted up, and he met his teammate’s ocean like eyes, dilated and lust filled. Their gazes locked and Clark didn’t seem to have the words, and he just smiled. From bruised lips, Bruce asked gravelly, “Do you want to put this cock inside me?”

“Yes.” 

In response to his plain answer, Bruce kissed him intensely. 

As they kissed, Clark got out the condom that he’d brought with him. He continued the fervent kiss, even as he blindly opened the packet and rolled it on his length.

Their lips slid away and they held each other’s gazes a long moment. Bruce gazed at him with desire shining from his eyes. Clark murmured in awe, “It’s almost the same as the lust I saw in your eyes in that hotel room in Paris, but this is better, because this is real, and lucid.”

In return, Bruce murmured, “I hate you for turning me on this much.”

Clark nodded understandingly, and then whispered to him, “Turn around.”

His nostrils flared and then he did as he was told, and he went into action. He haphazardly pushed down his jeans below his knees, moved, and positioned himself facing the front of the car, backwards over Clark’s lap. Before he could lower himself down over him, Clark was presented with his bare ass. Clark stopped him a moment and he buried his mouth into the valley of his cheeks, and licked slowly. 

Bruce moaned lowly in response and held still for his tongue. It was so good, and any other time, he’d have relished him doing that to him all night, but he really needed him to be inside him right now.

Clark guided him back, and Bruce eased down, he lined up to Clark’s hard length. Then his lover opened him up with his cock, and Bruce gasped and keened as he was filled up. God he’d been right it was intense. Gratifyingly Clark moaned at the tight heat around him.

As he sank down, taking his cock slowly to the hilt, Clark gently guided Bruce’s denim clad legs to hook over the outside of Clark’s. Bruce couldn’t help it, he made desperate little noises as his naked back met Clark’s bare chest. 

They stayed like that relaxing for a good few minutes, so that Bruce could get used to him being inside him. 

His lover tilted his head and murmured in Bruce’s ear, “You feel real good B.”

It was so strange him calling him that, in such an intimate position. He might’ve told him off for it, but the feeling of the fullness of him inside him muted his ire. With a languid tone, Bruce murmured, “The fact that Superman’s cock feels amazing inside me shouldn’t be a surprise.”

He could hear the smile of pride in his voice, as he teased, “We haven’t even got to the good stuff.”

Bruce chuckled low and real. Then Bruce slowly squeezed his ass around Clark’s cock enticingly. Clark groaned lowly, then his instincts took over, and his cock began the journey to satisfaction. 

As his lover thrust into him, Bruce arched his throat, his head thrown back against Clark’s shoulder. Clark caressed Bruce’s chest with his palms. He turned his head, and their eyes met, he saw lustful need and a smidgeon of surprise at what they were doing in those eyes that he was growing to love. He was too far gone to correct his own crazy thought.

Then they leaned in at the same time and shared a slow kiss. 

As their bodies strived for release, their lips slipped away and Bruce began bucking down onto his throbbing cock. Clark moaned and quickened his pace in return. Their movements so ardent that Clark was the one growling and Bruce began to whine softly, “Yes, please Clark yes.”

Clark took hold of his turgid length and jerked it. Bruce’s muscled body adulterated over him, taking his cock deeper, rolling his hips up, thrusting his pre-come slicked cock into Clark’s fist. Spontenously, Bruce laughed before he arched over him, taunt and straining, as his come covered Clark’s hand and his own chest. 

As Bruce shuddered against his lover, he gasped with shock and awe, “So good.”

Clark laughed huskily, “I haven’t finished with your ass yet.”

His lover took hold of his hips and he fucked him. Bruce’s cock dribbled come over his stomach, as his lover slammed his cock into him relentlessly until he came inside the condom, inside him.

As their bodies calmed, he could feel his back sticky with sweat against Clark’s chest, his body still shuddering, and hyperaware. Clark smiled with satisfaction, and panted into his ear, “I guess you liked that huh?”

“I’ll kick your ass if you tell anyone.” he groaned.

“I promise I won’t, baby.” he said sincerely.

He grumbled, and carefully lifted up. He half turned and kneeled on the seat. He gazed down at his come splattered torso. He sighed, “Great, now I have to dodge Alfred going into the house.”

Clark gazed at him mutely, and then leaned forward and slowly licked a splodge off. Bruce moaned at the display, “God, you dirty boy…”

His lover groaned, and continued licking and savouring him until he was clean. 

Then he lifted his face up to him, and met his gaze. Overcome, Bruce grasped his head and took that sticky mouth. Tasting his own come in Clark Kent’s mouth made him wonder what Clark tasted like. Without overthinking his actions, he reached down and removed the condom, put it in the trash, and then bowed his head to Clark’s wet cock. 

He hummed. He tasted better than his did, he thought. He sucked it, and his tongue relished it. Clark’s fingers twined his hair, “Oh baby, you’re going to make me hard again.”

He pulled off with a pop, and told him, “Don’t call me baby.”

“I think you like it.” Clark smiled.

~*~

It was a week after their tryst that had begun at the nightclub, and ended in his car outside the gates of the Manor. It was a week and Bruce still couldn’t believe he’d done something so stupid. What kind of idiot has a one night stand with someone when they have to work with them for the foreseeable future, someone that they have to be able to rely on? 

Clark had said he needed to let off some steam that night, and that he did. It had been passionate and almost sordid and so unlike Superman. What they did was an anomaly for Bruce as well. 

Obviously, someone as morally upright as the man of steel, wasn’t going to let sleeping dogs lie, he was probably going to want more… a relationship or something.

He gazed out at the Metropolis cityscape; the streetlights were switched on making the place a beacon of light. Batman glanced up at the rotating golden effigy of the world, and he waited.

A few seconds later, the bespectacled reporter came through the roof access door, and came to a stop in front of him. On alert, he asked, “Batman, what’s the emergency?”

He cleared his throat, “There’s no emergency. I just wanted to speak with you.”

Clark Kent adjusted his glasses, “You called me on the comm-link, if this was personal you could’ve just called me.”

He scorned, “Personal.”

Clark visually relaxed in front of him, and rolled his eyes, “It’s one of those days, is it?”

He narrowed his gaze and said stoically, “I came to remind you that what happened last week was a one off, a one night stand.”

The reporter frowned, “We haven’t spoken in a week, after the debriefing about Hades you were out of there before I could say hello, and you think I need reminding.”

Why was he always so… right? Batman gave a short nod, “Good, so we know where we stand with each other?”

Clark tilted his head and then approached him. He said huskily, “It was really good B.”

Batman breathed through his nose, this time the codename shorthand was correct but the intimate tone was still wrong. “This is exactly why I came here, to tell you…”

“You came all the way here to see me, to tell me not to think about you?”

When he said it aloud, it sounded stupid. He cringed behind the cowl. He tensed his jaw, he insisted, “This isn’t a romantic relationship, we’re not going to end up together.”

Even though his words were harsh, unfathomably a smile came to Clark’s lips, and it grew brighter and brighter. “You want us to be together?”

He swallowed hard, “For someone with super-hearing you don’t listen very well.”

Clark stepped in close, he murmured, “For someone renowned for being a detective, you don’t see the clues that I see.”

“What would you know about clues?”

“I’m an investigative journalist Mr Wayne, and this story looks to me like despite your protests you want to be with me.”

He watched the reporter’s lips come nearer and nearer, but before they touched, Batman rasped, “You’re wrong.” Clark stopped his progress, but stayed so temptingly close. Bruce told him, “I don’t do commitment.” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be together.”

“Doesn’t it?” he questioned his ludicrous statement.

Clark’s nostrils flared, “I don’t expect anything from you, but I want you B.” 

He admitted sincerely, “I couldn’t be with you without wanting everything that comes with it, and I don’t think I can handle that.” 

Clark’s expressive eyes looked deep into his, as he uttered quietly, “Just keep in mind what I told you in Paris. I’m yours, anytime you decide you want me.”

Batman’s eyes widened at that declaration, his heart shuddered in his chest, and his cock twitched behind his armour. 

Then Clark Kent’s soft insistent lips were against his. He couldn’t help it; he couldn’t give him back what he was so sweetly offering. Batman returned the kiss desperately, grasping Clark’s head in his leather gloved hands, and devouring his mouth hard.

Clark whined softly, and then his mouth relaxed completely under his, sweetly pliant and yielding to Batman’s ardour. 

When Batman had to break away so he could breathe, he stared panting at the man who was his ally, and his lover. 

The other man gazed at him through his black framed lenses with awe, and he said breathily, “Bruce, you seriously can’t fight that. Please don’t fight me.”

With a heaving chest, his mind warring against what his heart and his body wanted, Batman backed away, shot out a line, and disappeared into the night. 

 

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: Irresistible 5  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,524  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: A decision about what they’re doing has to be made.

~S~

Clark lay in the quiet darkness of his bedroom. The full moon casting the only light. He heard the buzzing of his bedside clock and then the other sounds filtered through. His subconscious always scanning for sounds of distress that needed his personal attention. After all the years of having his hearing ability, the sounds of the world were like a background buzz, similar to white noise or the ticking of a clock, so monotonous that most of the time you didn’t even notice but now and again, you’d become aware of it.

He heard the rev of an engine or two. He heard footfalls on the ground. He heard a voice snap in anger, a steady breath, and a laugh.

Clark’s focus suddenly snapped to attention as his bedroom door opened. He didn’t even ask how he had gotten into his apartment. Through the meagre light, their eyes locked, and Clark’s chest shuddered. He whispered, “You’ve decided to make your move?”

Batman replied lowly, “It’s been a war, Clark.”

He watched the armour clad hero approach the bed with a certain look in his eyes, Clark recognised it as desire mixed with apprehension. The nervousness that he remembered from last week, he’d realised was because this was more than sex. The notorious playboy could handle sex with a hundred beautiful faceless women but a relationship that he truly wanted scared the fearless bat. When he sat down on the edge of Clark’s bed. Clark questioned gently, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Clark shivered as that black gloved hand reached out and caressed his chest. “So beautiful, even when we were just teammates, the fact couldn’t be denied.”

Batman massaged his chest firmly, and instinctively Clark arched into his hand, his nipples hardening. Batman moved the covers, and Clark’s invulnerable body trembled as his finger traced his abdomen and then down the front of his pyjama bottoms. Clark swallowed hard in reaction. Batman took hold of his cock and began stroking, and stroking. It was stimulating and his cock throbbed in that tight leather fist. The setting of his bedroom was more intimate than before but it didn’t feel right, not after the smiles, and seduction, not after terribly hungry kisses. 

Then Batman leaned over and pressed a slow kiss to Clark’s chest, his abdomen, and then lower down. Clark squirmed on the bed, “Don't.” 

Those familiar intense eyes met his and searched his eyes. Then his hand left Clark’s crotch and he wrapped his gloved hand around Clark’s throat. Clark opened his mouth and then it was taken, softly in contrast to the grip on his throat. Then Batman warned him, “Don’t ever lie to me Clark, and don’t say things that you don’t mean.” Then he took his mouth again, and reflexively, Clark’s tongue met his.

The kiss was soft and intense, consuming and good and Clark groaned into it. “Yes, baby.”

In response, Batman hummed into Clark’s mouth, and pulled away. Then his hands grasped the waistband of Clark’s pyjama bottoms and dragged them off. Clark was left naked, hard and exposed on the bed. He watched with nervous excitement as Batman backed away and then began undressing.

Clark was trapped on the bed mesmerised, watching his lover appear before his eyes.

When he was fully nude, pale in the moonlight, and aroused, he ordered, “Turn over.”

With confusion, Clark asked, “You want to… fuck me?”

A sardonic smile turned his lip, “Don’t sound so surprised.”

He gulped, “I kind of am.”

“Do you remember what you asked me that night? Well I do want to fuck Superman.”

Clark saw the determination in Bruce’s eyes. He recognised that Bruce had not been fighting Clark; he had been fighting himself to be here. He knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, or maybe even a part of him wanted Clark to turn him down so he could have a reason to walk away from this. 

God, he wasn’t a consummate sub by any means, when things got hot and heavy he didn’t have an overwhelming urge to take cock. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it. So he did as he was told and even as Clark turned over naked on his front on the bed, the slither of unheeded desire coiled in his belly. His erection pressed against mattress. 

Then he felt the dip as Bruce got on the bed. “Spread your legs.” He ordered.

Just as he followed Bruce’s order, he sensed the shadow of him as he positioned himself kneeling between Clark’s thighs. He remembered offering him his ass that night, so needing a release so willing to do whatever it took to get it. Clark upturned his bare ass and presented Bruce with it.

As bare hands cupped and spread his ass cheeks, Clark’s cock flexed against the mattress under him.

“Perfect, Clark.” he was complimented.

Bruce spread his ass cheeks again, Clark gasped as Bruce’s mouth met his asshole. Then his lover gave his asshole a series of slow long lingering licks. This whole situation was crazy and maybe that’s why his centre twitched against that moist velvety tongue. In pleasure, he whined softly and he buried his face against the mattress. 

He was all about fair play and he knew that sometimes even the most powerful of bottoms needed to stick their cock inside something more than a mouth. Clark had always felt that if a man could turn him on enough to make Clark want to let him have his way with him, if he was worth it, he’d let him take his ass. Going on his previous passion for him, with him, he knew he was going to enjoy it with Bruce.

He felt that hungry mouth back on him with more intent, burrowing deeper with every lick. He gasped and moaned, god he was good with that mouth, but then again Bruce Wayne always had a silver tongue. He laughed softly at his own thoughts and the pleasure he was receiving. 

At his laugh, a finger carefully pressed into him, his asshole tightened around the invader. Bruce’s other hand slapped Clark’s ass, and the finger inside him twisted and Bruce demanded, “Open up, let me in.”

Clark lifted his head from the mattress and he looked back over his shoulder and saw his lover’s erection hard and pointing at him. When he met his gaze, Bruce raised a taunting eyebrow and murmured, “Let me in Clark.”

He bowed his head to his pillow, and he licked his lips and then made himself relax.

Then Bruce spat at his hole and Clark groaned.

As Bruce’s finger worked its way inside him again and again, eased in and out carefully working him open, Clark panted and moaned.

A low satisfied hum left his lover’s mouth. Then his fingers left Clark’s entrance. Then he got in closer, and he lined his cock up to Clark’s asshole. Clark felt the warm bare skin; the slightly wet tip meeting the dampness of his entrance. In response, Clark’s eyes widened. He glanced back over his shoulder and he gasped, “What… wait…!”

But Bruce didn’t wait; he thrust his unsheathed cock into Clark’s ass.

Clark gasped at the fast penetration and his hands splayed against the mattress. Then Bruce grasped Clark’s hips and he thrust even deeper, and then deeper until he was all the way inside him. Clark whined and his eyes speared him. “I said wait…” he bowed his head and shook it, “Damn it, Bruce.”

Then purposely Bruce leaned his muscled body forward and over his back so there wasn’t a slither of space, just the flesh of his hips meeting the flesh of his ass cheeks and Clark’s body felt like Bruce’s couldn’t be inside any further. He couldn’t move, pinned to the bed by Bruce’s cock. Bruce’s balls were resting against his perineum. Clark groaned and he slowly raised his head and met Bruce’s heated gaze over his shoulder, and Clark growled, “What are you doing?”

“I’m claiming what’s mine, Clark.” His lover told him gravelly.

“Yours…?”

“Anytime that I want, isn’t that what you said.”

In response to the claim, Clark’s asshole spasmed around his lover’s cock. 

He felt Bruce’s cock flex deep inside him, and pre-come ease the way. A pride of a primal kind sparked inside Clark, which his body couldn’t deny, as he instinctively pushed back onto that length of aroused flesh that belonged to his lover. Then Bruce pulled out of Clark and then he thrust back inside harder. Clark cried out and Bruce hummed with satisfaction and then repeated the action over and over. Clark tried to change position but his wrists were grasped and his legs were forced wider, and his lover’s ankles laced over his and locked their position and Bruce changed rhythm and took him faster.

The position couldn’t literally hold him, but to power out of it, he could very well hurt Bruce, and he wouldn't do that. So he stayed pinned to the bed and he let Bruce consumed him.

As time went on, Clark became flustered and overheated and Bruce’s cock was driving him crazy. He felt opened up and slick as his lover's balls slapped against his over and over. He felt owned. 

He’d been right; he did enjoy taking Bruce Wayne’s cock. He couldn’t let him win, whatever Bruce thought he was winning. He used his strength to move one of his legs, and crooked it up, lifted himself on his elbows, turned his upper body so he could meet his gaze straight on. Then he demanded, “Harder.”

Bruce’s eyes were filled with surprise that he couldn’t hide. Clark smirked, and goaded, “You wanted this baby, now fuck me harder.”

His lover’s jaw tensed and then his thrusts got harder and Clark’s mouth hanged open in pleasure as he took it and took it. Until Bruce was perspiring from exertion, and then he came with a rumble from his chest and warm come filled Clark’s ass. 

With him still deep inside him, his lover’s sweaty body collapsed against Clark’s back. 

Then there was that growing familiar laugh and then Bruce tiredly mouthed fond kisses to Clark’s back and shoulder. He let him recover against him for a minute. 

~B~

Bruce lay against the beautifully solid body, and kissed deliciously warm soft skin. He was spent, and sated and contented. He wasn’t sure he could give Clark what he denied he needed. But he was sure of his decision to come to him and try. If he could meet him halfway then maybe they could share something worth the effort.

Out of stillness, Clark muttered, “I’m still hard B.”

Bruce groaned softly, and then he lifted up and slipped out of him wetly. Clark moaned in response, and then he turned over on the bed, his erection lying turgid against his stomach and his lover gazed up at him with tousled hair, tender lust in his eyes and soft lips. Bruce gazed down at him through the dusky light, awe sparkling in his eyes. “Clark, my god, you look so sexy right now.”

His lover said huskily. “You mean after I’ve been fucked?”

He nodded, and leaned in and took his mouth slowly. 

As their lips slipped away, Clark murmured provocatively, “If I’m yours then you’re mine, so turn over and lay back on my bed.” 

Bruce’s nostrils flared with arousal. Clark smiled sharply at him, and reached out, grasped his arm, and pulled them body to body. He flipped him over onto his back and he echoed Bruce's own order from before, “Spread your legs for me.” 

The fact that his so upstanding teammate could be so intense when it came to passion made Bruce whine in response. Then holding his gaze, he spread his thighs for him.

With utterly sincere desire on his face, Clark reached down, gathered some come from Bruce’s dripping cock and he slowly pushed two fingers inside Bruce’s tight entrance. He arched on the fingers, his thighs spreading wider and he panted with desire as Clark began slowly thrusting his fingers. Bruce’s cock didn’t get chance to soften; his continuing pleasure made it lay hard against his stomach.

It was slow and purposeful, he watched as Clark’s fingers delved in and out of him and Clark watched his face. He luxuriated under the care of his worshiping hands. 

Bruce looked at him with lust, curiosity, and worshipfulness there plainly on his face, and he saw it reflected back. 

His fingers grazed Bruce’s prostate again and again. Bruce instinctively spread his legs wider, his chest heaved and he turned his head from side to side on the pillow, the pleasure too much. “Oh god, Clark. Clark, please.” he panted. Their eyes locked and Bruce whispered, “I want you.” 

“Oh I know.” he cooed.

Bruce remembered how Clark had used a condom last week but now he forwent a condom. He slipped between Bruce’s thighs, and he lined up.

Bruce knew that he had started it; he’d wanted to claim him, mark him as his. He wanted to feel his ass cling to him flesh on flesh. 

His lover sank down slowly into his ass. Bruce’s mouth opened in a silent cry, and his thighs cradled Clark’s hips. There was no hiding it; it was a tell-tale sign of Bruce’s acquiesce. It told his lover that he wasn’t going fight this thing between them. 

Clark gazed down into his eyes, the first time that they’d been face to face looking at each other as they shared their intimate connection. It made it feel so much more powerful. Bruce reached up and caressed Clark’s beautiful face, and threaded his fingers into his black hair. Clark kissed his lips, and then his throat and he thrust into his welcoming heat. Bruce’s ankles crossed over his ass, and he moved with him. 

It went on, and on, his pre-come slicked Bruce’s ass, just as Bruce’s still dripped from Clark’s. Sweat dripped from Bruce’s brow and ran off on to the pillow. They rocked together and their moans of pleasure echoed each other.

Until, Clark slipped his hand between them, and reached for and jerked Bruce’s cock while he took his ass. Before long, Bruce trembled and then his throbbing cock came over Clark’s tight fist and his body arched off the bed. He came quietly, but powerfully, crying out silently into his lover’s ear, “Clark.”

Clark came with a yell of his name, jerking and spilling into him, as Bruce had done to him. Claiming what was now his. Their panting mouths found each other and battled passionately.

The kiss ended lingeringly and then softly they gazed at each other. Then his crime fighting teammate wondered, “I guess you figured out that you could have what you wanted?”

Bruce nodded, “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” And then he confirmed his words with another kiss.

 

The end


End file.
